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webslingingslasher · 2 months

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Care less

for the frat!peter girlies.

Peter blames his aunt.

May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went.

Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten.

Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared.

It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him.

“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore.

“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember.

“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.”

Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them.

“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.”

A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is.

“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone.

“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind.

“Isn’t this cute?”

You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.”

You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.”

Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup.

But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that.

Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?”

A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out?

“Yeah, it’s-”

“Disgusting.”

“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before.

“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket.

“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.”

“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.”

Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his.

“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness.

“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.”

‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you?

“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate.

“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what.

And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card.

And a teddy bear.

Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows.

“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.”

‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them.

“Good with me, trouble.”

Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing.

Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing.

Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden.

But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other.

The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them.

You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up.

‘Trouble-

This day was made for you.

Charlie’s at 8.

Yours,

Peter’

You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses.

When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?”

“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts.

“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet.

“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers.

“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle.

“No, you didn’t want them.”

You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet.

“I do want them!”

Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’

“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…”

Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes.

You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently.

“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better.

“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.”

“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up.

“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”

“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?”

You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap.

“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.”

You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back.

With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.”

“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips.

“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.”

Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.”

This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.”

“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him.

“I did. I even wrote a little poem.”

A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.”

“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”

A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.”

Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it.

“Yeah, I love love.”

A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.”

#frat!peter blurbs #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #uni extras

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arsbones-kw · 1 year

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Clothes swap!

#unfortunately im alive #not thriving tho #first time in a week i drew smt not for uni #tma #the magnus archives #mag pod #tma fanart #the magnus archive fanart #jonathan sims #elias bouchard #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #peter lukas #lonelyeyes #my art

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moreaugriffins · 23 days

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IDK who needs to hear this, but Egon and Ray aren't the only autistic og ghostbusters

Peter is too

Your telling me this man with two PhDs related to psychology, who always has the exact right thing to say to manipulate a situation to his favour (when it's a planned/known situation), but cocks up massively when it's an unknown situation, who has a massive reaction to getting slimed (more so than the others), who would rather joke all the time than take a situation seriously because wtf should he say

you're telling me this man is neurotypical?

nah

Winston's the only NT in this group (idk how he deals with these weirdos (affectionate))

#rambles #ghostbusters #the real ghostbusters #to be specific i guess #peter venkman #egon spengler #ray stantz #winston zeddemore #i've encountered a few autistic people like peter #it's mainly the focus on business and the intense interest in studying people and behaviour and the mind #but he gets so irritated and angry when he gets slimed #the same way i feel when oil or glue gets stuck on my skin #“but he's so good at social situations-” but that's just it!#he is!#because he studies people - studies their reactions - their interactions #a business chat always goes the same way so he can plan what to say to get the best thing out of it #when he flirts with women it seems to be the same way each time - like he's planned it - because he thinks it'll get a reaction he wants #and i dare say that Peter masks a lot more than Ray and Egon. i mean he was a probably more of a cool slacker type at uni and got on well #with more popular students (sorority house students? idk im not american) and yknow it was the 70s! couldnt exactly be fully himself #idk where im going with this - ive lost my train of thought #but yeah #peter is autistic as well and i'll die on this hill

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marsberryart · 9 months

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comic book nerds marauders

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creative-caramel-coffee · 27 days

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Actually Asthmatic

Summary: Reader comes to work despite being sick and pepper makes sure you’re ok.

TW: asthma, fever, overworking, sickness lol

Pairing: pepper x Platonic!Reader

Words: 2.5K

A/n Part two coming soon (part two will have natty and wands >:). Also, so much has happened since I posted last and I’m so sorry it’s taken this long. I’ve been super busy with uni. But… I got a girlfriend :) I also have a ton of uni work I have to keep up with and I have like no time for anything now. But I will do my best to keep writing. So expect my updates to be a bit more spaced but I’m NOT giving up on this account :)

Living in a dorm was an interesting thing. You had a room, kitchen and bathroom to yourself, but it was lonely.

You knew you were in for a rough time when your lab partner came to a lecture sick. Not only that, but they were coughing … a lot. You knew no matter how hard you tried you were bound to get sick and mentally you resigned yourself to your new fate.

Lo and behold the next day your throat hurt, but it was manageable. Another day passes and your head had begun to feel like it was stuffed with cotton. A truely lovely experience. To make matters even better, you had three classes and work today. Your shift at stark industries was something you couldn’t miss even if you wanted to.

Pepper was coming to check on your branch of the company and you needed to be able to show her the numbers at the meeting you were both attending. You needed to prove it hasn’t been a mistake to hire a collage student with crippling debt and insomnia to run a branch of what was probably the most successful company in New York if not the world.

You flipped the page on your textbook and bit back a sigh. There was still an hour left of class and the world seemed to be against you, time was moving slower, and it felt rather personal.

You rested your head on the table and tried to block out the droning of your collage professor, he was a great guy, but your head felt like it was being run over by a bus and your cheeks were warm and your fingers cold.

You must have drifted off at some point because before you knew it someone was nudging you. You groggily sat up and squinted into the light, a frown marring your face.

“Y/n/n, get up. Class is over.” It was one of your friends, you gave a half grunt and looked around.

The lecture hall was quickly emptying out and so you grabbed your bag and textbook and stood, swaying slightly.

“Whoa. You good?” Your friend asked and you nodded mumbling something about standing up too fast before beelining for the door.

You bid goodbye to your friend at the train station and boarded the tube that would take you to work.

It was about a five-minute walk from the train to stark industries, but the cold weather that threatened your lungs working in tandem with your asthma and what you were now beginning to think was the start of a nasty chest infection, made it seem like hours of hiking through the amazon after dark.

You adjusted the backpack on your shoulder and waited for the train to slow, the next stop was yours and despite it being the quiet carriage there was still the loud sound of train tracks passing under making your head feel like a drum being beaten by a tone-deaf monkey on steroids.

The train almost had pity on you as it slowed just as you thought the monkey had found an amp to make his music ‘better.’

You stumbled off the platform and hurried up the steps to the footpath. The crowd jostled you and you felt more than desire to just let the ocean of people sweep you out with the tide.

But you forged on. So did the monkey.

You must have looked like death incarnate by the time you arrived at the lobby. You were flushed at the very least and you could hear the wheezing in your breath as you took in air by the lungful.

You scanned your keycard once you had located it in the mess that was your backpack. Stepping into the clean white walls of stark industries made you feel like a racoon in an upper-class neighbourhood.

You made your way to the elevator that would take you to the board room and finally paused to catch your breath which was now just a string of wheezes. You knew that because the look the lady at the reception shot you was one that was a mix of concern, confusion and pity.

Your throat was raw, and your face was congested as well as your chest. You sounded like you swallowed a frog, and the frog was also now sick and subsequently congested.

When the lift arrived you thanked Stark, who was your own personal god that there was nobody else in it. You stepped in and lent against the railing after thumbing the button for your floor with what was probably more force than necessary.

You sat back against the cool metal bar and watched the numbers climb higher and higher as you approached the master board room which was also the same floor as peppers office. A place you rarely visited except when you had the quarterly board meeting like today.

As the lift pinged and the doors slide open smoothly you stepped off and gathered your bearings.

You caught sight of a door at the end of the hall with peppers name on it and smiled. She was also one of your own personal heroes. She worked like a horse and kicked ass like an avenger all while wearing heels and a smile that said, ‘don’t fuck with me before I’ve had my coffee’.

You navigated your way to the board room and cracked the door a bit. So far there were a few people in there and it was still early. You smiled at the unfamiliar faces and sat down.

You didn’t know any of them yet and so you kept to yourself as you and the others waited for pepper and the rest of the companies branch managers and board members to come in.

After a bit pepper entered looking as swauve and elegant as ever. She took her seat at the head of the table and took note of the empty chairs with a small frown.

“It seems some people are still absent, so we’ll wait for a bit until the numbers are more … concrete.” She said with a smile drawing a few laughs from around the room.

You kept your head down, but your eyes kept straying back to pepper.

After a few minutes of you being sat there doodling in your notepad, the meeting started.

You paid attention to most things but once you had presented your numbers you had more or less zoned out. At one point you caught pepper looking at you closely and decided to try and pay attention again.

But the meeting droned on and soon your chest felt tighter and tighter. Your face flushed with the effort of suppressing a cough. The wheeze that had left you in the elevator had seemingly returned and you were doing your best to keep it quiet.

Your eyes looked around the room for an escape and you caught pepper looking at you again. She looked worried.

‘Are you ok?’ She mouthed and you nodded but she looked unsure.

You decided to leave, just to step out for a moment to get some air and let your lungs do their thing.

You waited until all eyes were back on the man presenting before slipping out the door.

You beelined for the bathroom which were luckily empty with everyone currently on the floor in the meeting.

You braced yourself by placing your hands either side of the sink and let out a string of deep chesty coughs. The wheeze got worse, and you cursed yourself for leaving your asthma inhaler in your backpack in the board room.

The coughing still hadn’t ceased, and it seemed the attack was making it harder to catch your breath than normal.

You barely registered the door to the bathrooms being opened and the sound of high heels click across the floor in hurried steps.

You felt a hand press between your shoulder blades as someone drew slow circles on your back. Someone was telling you to breathe and you recognised the voice.

Pepper.

You felt something being pressed into your hands and looked down to find a glass of water.

You gratefully took a sip and found it soothed your throat pretty well.

After a second, the fit ended and you just had the wheeze to worry about.

“Are you alright?” Pepper asked looking worried and trying not to fuss over you.

You shot her a weak smile.

“I’m ok.” You grinned unconvincingly. She gave you a look you assumed tony often received and caved. “I’m sick.” You rasped.

“I’d have never guessed.” Pepper joked rolling her eyes and guided you by the shoulders out the door.

“Where are we going?” You asked still holding the water.

“Well, you need to rest, and the board can handle the rest of the meeting. I want you to get that cough looked at and i have some emails to check. So, we are going to my office, you are going to lie down and I’m going to get some work done.” Pepper said with a smile, and you looked at her like she had hung the stars in the sky.

“Thank you.” You mumbled.

“That’s quite alright honey.” She smiled and then her brow crinkled as if she just noticed your wheezing. Which spoiler alert… she had.

You avoided her eyes as she scrutinised you closely. After a second her pace slowed and yours matched it before she stepped in front of you and placed a hand on your chin. She tilted your head back to look at her and met your gaze with a motherly worried expression.

“You’re wheezing.” She noted.

“And you’re pepper potts.” You said back looking nervous.

“Yes.” She deadpanned in response. “Y/n, are you … asthmatic?” She asked and you looked away.

That was enough of a response for her as she sighed. “Wheres your puffer sweetie?”

“Back in my backpack in the meeting room.” You mumbled.

“Alright here’s what we are going to do. I’m going to get you set up in my office and then go and get your bag for you.” She said and resumed her pace to her office.

When she arrived, she scanned her keycard and opened the door. It was an amazing office. Floor to ceiling windows in a corner room made the whole space perfectly lit with natural light.

You stepped inside in awe, and she guided you over to an expensive looking blue couch with a fond smile.

“You stay here, I’ll be right back.” She said and you grinned and nodded still star struck.

You could see the New York skyline from up here, the city bustling below.

You had barely blinked by the time pepper had returned.

She handed you your bag which you took and thanked her again.

“Now take whatever you need to and try to get some rest, I’ll be at my desk just there if you need anything.” She said with a smile, lingering to make sure you took your inhaler.

After you had uncapped the small blue device and administered the medicine, she gave you a curt nod and headed to her desk.

Almost as soon as your head hit the soft fluffy throw pillows on the couch you were out.

The next few hours were spent toeing the line between sleep and wakefulness. At one point as you dozed you heard pepper talking to someone on the phone before you returned to sleep.

Pepper had sat down to get some work done but had barely typed out one email before her eyes were back on you. You seemed so small in this moment. Just a young adult, you reminded her of peter. She wanted to make sure you were ok and the small wheeze coming from your lips made her worried.

Your face was slightly flushed, and pepper was sure nobody had been messing with the room temperature controls. Feeling maternal, she picked up her phone and punched in the number for Bruce’s lab. Better safe than sorry.

After a short conversation with Bruce in which she relayed your symptoms, he decided he wanted to see you to run further tests and rule out pneumonia. Pepper had looked over at you and agreed, you had been sleeping for nearly four hours now and seemingly weren’t doing much better, and including your asthma she didn’t want to risk anything.

Bruce and pepper agreed to bring you to the avengers' tower to check your lungs and maybe put you on a nebuliser to be safe as the wheeze was still lingering.

When the phone call ended pepper stood from her desk and walked over to the couch, gently she sat down beside you and nudged your shoulder. You groaned and rolled over trying to escape.

Stifling a giggle pepper placed her hand on your arm, frowning when she felt heat radiating off you. She paused and then lifted her hand to your face, laying the backside of her palm to your forehead and feeling for a fever.

Finding what she was looking for, pepper gently rubbed your arm again.

“Y/n? Honey, you have to get up. We’re going to the doctor sweetie.” She said softly and you whined and buried your face in the couch.

“Tired and don’t wanna move.” You mumbled into the cushions.

“You can lean on me the whole way to the car, alright?” Pepper said carding her hands through your hair.

“Okay.” You mumbled and blinked your eyes open to look at her. The haze of fever was settled in and the pink hue of your cheeks made you look both dazed and cute.

With peppers help you stand up and lean into her side. She had already called happy to bring the car around and he was going to meet you both out front.

With your bag slung over one shoulder and you curled into her other side, pepper slowly began the trek back to the lift. The board meeting had ended hours ago so it was just the two of you left on the whole floor.

After a slow and sleepy trip down to the car pepper got settled into the backseat with you so she could keep an eye on how you were fairing.

Your cheeks had darkened slightly, and she felt your forehead again as happy peeled out of the car park. Your fever had definitely risen, and she frowned as the glossy look in your eyes was increased ten-fold.

Part two coming soon :)

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shellshocklove · 10 months

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blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: reunions are always sweet, aren’t they?

warnings: swearing, infertility, smut (+18 mdni!!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this one’s interesting that’s for sure! very curious to hear people’s thoughts on this tbh! 😳 also this is barely edited. i only read through this once!

series masterlist

“Your Majesty! His Majesty gave orders that he did not want to be disturbed!”,

The muffled voice travelled through the door to Tom’s office. He found himself spending more and more time in here. It was the only place where he could get some peace and quiet, and not be bothered by all the vultures at court clawing for a piece of him.

The door flew open, and his Queen, Genevieve, burst into his office. Quickly, and as discreetly as he could, Tom folded the paper he’d been reading, tucking it away under a notebook.

“Leave us!” she ordered the guards; anger coated her words.

She looked pretty, he noted. Her summer dress ruffled with every stomp towards him. Daisies ruffling in the wind. The sweetness of her outfit, dimming the impact of her scrunched face. With a hard stop in front of his desk she slammed her hand down.

“What’s going on?” Tom queried calmly.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Gen huffed, gesturing toward his desk where a pregnancy test was left in her wake.

Tom’s stomach turned at the sight. Like a crystal ball the small plastic stick would tell him his future. With a shaky hand he picked up the test, feeling the sting of Genevieve’s eyes. Holding his breath, he turned the stick around.

One line. Not pregnant.

Relieved he huffed out a breath, “It didn’t work”.

“Are you seriously happy right now?” Gen spat. “After all the treatments I’ve had to go through, all the hormones and a fucking egg retrieval– you’re fucking happy!?”.

“What– No,” he lied.

And then Genevieve did something he wished she didn’t. She started crying.

“No, you are!” she sobbed, “Why do you do this to me? Do you know how much pressure I’m under, huh? Do you?”.

“Gen,” Tom tried.

“Don’t ‘Gen’ me” she pointed an angry finger at him, “Nobody cares about me– do you know that? I’m not important like you are, I’m just your wife! All they want from me is a baby. Every time I’m photographed the gossip train starts: ‘She’s gained weight, hasn’t she?’, “That must be a baby bump’” her shoulders shook with exhaustion as she spoke.

Carefully Tom got up from his office chair, taking soft steps around his desk, before he wrapped his arms around her shoulder.

“Ge–“ he cut himself off.

“I’m twenty-six years old, Tom, I should have no problem getting pregnant! I don’t understand why we have to do it like this” Gen cried into his shoulder.

Tom didn’t say anything, he only rubbed her back in soothing circles, trying his best to calm her down. She’d been extra emotional these last couple of months. And he didn’t blame her. He knew the hormone treatment took a toll on her body. He felt ashamed that it had come to this. IVF. In vitro fertilisation. Nothing was wrong with them – the tests said so – but he just couldn’t do it. He was married to Genevieve, and still he couldn’t have sex with her without feeling like he was cheating.

“We still have more embryos,” he started, trying to comfort her, “we can try again next month”.

With a huff she pushed him away, “What’s the point, Tom? You don’t even love me! You’ve never loved me”. A tear hung in a thread from her left eye, waiting to spill.

His silence said it all. He just stared at her in disbelief. She’d never been so straightforward with him before.

“Are you even capable of loving anyone?” she asked him, her words tasted bitter. “You avoid me like the plague, you stay in this room every chance you get… When was the last time you spoke to your brothers? Or Harrison? Or Tuwaine?”.

Tom didn’t know if she was concerned about him, or if she was just accusing him of being heartless. And maybe he was. His heart had been taken a long time ago, and he had yet to get it back.

Staring at her, his wife, he had a hard time forming words. He felt his throat constrict around the words,

“I…”.

“What?” Gen spat.

I didn’t want to get hurt again, he thought. But he couldn’t utter the words. When he, again, said nothing, Genevieve scoffed.

“That’s what I thought!”.

She quickly wiped her tears before she grabbed the pregnancy test off his desk. Turning on her heels, she let his office doors slam behind her.

Sitting back in his chair, Tom wanted to cry. How had his life come to this? With a groan he fell back against the leather, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to hold back his tears. When colours started to swim before him, he sat back up again. Scanning his desk, his eyes landed on the paper he’d snuck under his notebook earlier.

Pulling it out again his eyes skimmed the words.

“Dear His Majesty the King

On the 23rd of July we invite all prominent alumni to attend our 200th anniversary as a university. The gala will start at 7pm and be held on campus grounds. There will be dinner, drinks, and entertainment. Attire: Formal.”

“No Queen Genevieve tonight, Your Majesty?” The Vice-Chancellor asked Tom as she guided him towards the gala. He’d been ceremoniously met at the entrance by the whole senior cabinet of chancellors, where pictures had been taken and interviews had been held by the press.

“No, unfortunately Her Majesty wasn’t feeling well” he apologised knowing that was far from the truth.

After their fight and the failed IVF attempt, Gen had barely spoken to him. Having her accompanying him to an event like this after weeks of silence sounded awful. He didn’t think he could put on a smile and pretend everything was fine when he knew she hated him. He also didn’t want to push his luck with her. She’d agreed to another round of insemination – and as much as he wished he didn’t – he needed her to get pregnant.

But that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want her to attend.

“That’s unfortunate… Please send Her Majesty our well wishes!”

“Thank you– I will” Tom promised.

Passing through the doors of the ballroom, Tom noticed he was the last one to arrive. Round tables, heavily decorated with flowers, filled up the room before a stage. A steady hum of conversation filled up the room as penguin dressed waiters circled the tables, pouring wine.

“We really appreciate The King taking the time to attend tonight and holding the opening speech! And as a thank you, we did our best to grant His Majesty’s wishes for the seating arrangements– it’s so important to reconnect with old classmates!” The Vice-Chancellor said, guiding him through a door to the backstage.

The speech Tom held was as basic as they could come, and Tom wouldn’t have had it any other way. What was there really to say except for some semi-sincere words about his time at the university, and how important education is. He was happy his speech writer had kept it short because he couldn’t wait to get it over with.

After a round of applause he eagerly he got off stage. The reason for his eagerness sitting right in front of him with an empty seat beside her.

“Your Majesty,” you said, a timid smile on your face as he found his seat. The table cards placed him a chair away from you, noticing that they’d assigned a seat for Gen beside you.

“Miss. y/l/n” he said ceremoniously, trying his hardest to fight back his smile and revealing how happy he was to see you again. A waiter quickly stepped forward after he’d taken his seat, nervously asking if he preferred red or white wine for the appetisers. With a quick glance at the menu placed on his plate before him, revealing seafood, he decided on white wine.

“You can clear all this,” Tom gestured to the seat separating him from you, while the waiter poured his wine, “Her Majesty isn’t coming tonight”.

“How about… uh” Tom heard you speak. Glancing over at you, he watched you shift nervously in your seat. “We just do this?” you quickly grabbed your own table card, switching it with Gen’s.

“Is that okay?” you questioned, biting your lip.

“More than okay!” Tom reassured you quickly.

Grabbing your purse by your feet you got up from your seat. You were clad in a silk dress, one Tom recognized. A memory flashed before his eyes. You in his lap on his birthday. He could still remember the feel of the silk fabric under his hand as he pushed it away to reveal your soft skin underneath.

You sat down beside him, your foot accidentally brushing against his as you got comfortable. You looked beautiful. Even more beautiful than he remembered. He almost couldn’t believe that you were real.

He’d almost not done it – his request. The university had asked him to speak, and he’d countered with his wish of being seated with his former classmates – specifically you. It was a dangerous request – but seeing you smile at him again – he found himself not giving a shit.

“I’m sorry Tom,” you giggled, courtesy of the wine, “I need the loo”.

He’d missed you so much he didn’t understand how he’d been able to go all those years without you. He missed the feeling you gave him. Your conversations. To be understood without saying a word. The fact that he’d barely spoken to anyone else but you the whole night didn’t bother him much. He was like an addict, and you were his drug. An innocent taste was enough for him to never want to leave ever again. His longing for you had not been fed in years, and now it had grown too large. It ached to be relieved.

“Yeah, me too” he was quick to say, getting up from his seat, “I’ll walk you”.

Looking up at him, you tilted your head like a puppy before a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. It hit him right in the heart.

“Escorted by royalty? I must be one lucky girl” you teased.

He’d missed your jokes too, and how they were always at his royal expense. You treated him like just Tom, and no one had treated him like that in years. With a hesitant hand at the small of your back, he led you towards the toilets.

Waiting for you outside the toilets, all Tom’s bad decisions replayed in his head. He was fucking stupid for even entertaining this idea – but he was desperate. He’d denied himself for too long. His stupid head always got in the way. For once in his life, he wanted to follow his heart, if only for one moment.

“You finished?” he looked up from where he’d studied the floor. Your heels clicked as you stepped closer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “no line in the men’s”.

You hummed, swinging your leg back behind you. “Ready to go back?” you asked, smiling.

“Can we…” he trailed off. Why was he so nervous? He never used to be this nervous around you.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, “You okay?”. He thought his heart was going to stop when your hand came up to rub lovingly over his bicep. He let out a breathy chuckle,

“Yeah… just, can we talk in private?”.

Your rubbing hand stopped at his question before you let it fall. You bit your lip, your eyes dancing over his face. Before you answered, Tom looked around the corridor. With the coast clear he pushed off the wall and opened the door to the accessible toilet. You hesitated for a moment, your front teeth digging deeper into your lip before you quickly stepped inside.

At the sound of the lock clicking, Tom stopped thinking – but he didn’t want to think – not if it wasn’t about you. He crossed the space between you, pulling you closer to him. His hands shook with wanting.

“Tom–” he cut you off with a kiss.

He could finally breathe again. He shed his straitjacket. The weight of his crown fell to the floor. You kissed him back, and he could cry with happiness. He felt your hands around his neck. The silk fabric of your dress bunching in his hands as he pulled you closer.

“I miss you” he mumbled against your lips, “I miss you all the time”.

You whined into his mouth. He’d missed that sound, so sure he’d never hear it again.

With careful steps he walked you both backwards until your bum hit the sink. He was greedy. Hands exploring your body, feeling your familiar bumps and curves, the one’s he’d memorised so many years ago.

A smacking sound bounced off the tiles as you pulled away from his kiss. You were breathing hard under his touch. Your eyes looked at him with longing and sadness, and guilt. He shook his head, cupping your cheek to try and comfort you.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, darling!” his thumb traced circles against your skin, “This is only on me”,

“You have a wife,” you whispered. The look you gave him made his heart break.

“It should’ve never been her– only you!” he pecked your lips.

Your eyes fell shut from his kiss. Your eyelashes kissed the soft skin under your eyes as your face twisted in agony.

“I’ve missed you” you confessed.

Tom couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He kissed you with a feverish touch. Hands sliding over your arse where he gave it a squeeze. With a small jump he helped you to sit on the sink, legs spread for him to slot between. He pressed himself against you. He was rock hard. His cock straining against the front seam of his tuxedo pants. Pushing the silk from your thighs, he collected the fabric around your waist. With a press of a finger to your clit, you mewled against his lips.

Tom didn’t waste any time. He slipped his hand inside your panties, feeling how wet you were for him. When he teased his finger at your entrance, you pulled away from his kiss. You looked at him with eyes blown wide with lust.

With a bite to your kiss-swollen lips you gave him a nod. He pushed his finger all the way inside you, smiling when he felt your walls contract around him. Your head fell back with a sigh when he started thrusting his finger inside you.

Tom couldn’t hold back his smile. He’d missed this more than anything. Being intimate with you. There was this connection between you he couldn’t explain, one he hadn’t even noticed was there before it suddenly was gone. He knew exactly what you wanted, how you wanted it, and when.

Quickly pulling out he pushed back inside with a second finger. Under him you moaned. Eager to coax more moans from you he pressed his thumb to your clit, circling it the way he knew you liked.

“Tom” you gasped.

Tom groaned, feeling how his cock twitched in his pants at your name falling from your lips. He needed to make you come, to watch you fall apart for him. He sped up the thrusts of his fingers, every slap against your wet cunt coinciding with a circling of your clit.

You tipped your head forward, “Please…” you begged, a hand gripping his jacket.

“What– what do you want, baby, tell me” he asked. He curled his fingers inside you and hit your spot, making your eyes widen and a gasp fall from your lips.

“I–I’m close” you let him know. Your eyes were intense. He knew he’d drown in them if he wasn’t careful.

He never let up his pace, “It’s okay, baby, you can come!”

A strangled moan escaped your throat as he felt your clench around his fingers. He slowed his movement down as you rode your euphoric high. He loved the way you looked as you came. You let everything go. Baring your truest self to him. Your chest heaved as you came down. He slowly pulled out, gently dragging his fingers through your folds.

Your hand on his tuxedo jacket pulled him closer. Your lips on him in an instant. The kiss was tender and tasted way too sweet. A quiet thank you without uttering the words.

He withdrew his hand from your panties before he hooked a finger under the waistband to pull them down, just above your knees.

Your own hand palmed him over his pants, making him involuntarily buck into your touch. If he didn’t fuck you soon, he think he’d combust. You fumbled with his button and zipper before dipping your hand inside his pants and taking his cock out.

Taking him in your hand, you wasted no time. He was so hard; the head was dripping with precum. With a finger skating over the head you slicked him up, and gave him an experimental tug. Your hand was so soft. He’d missed your hands too.

Falling forward, he buried his head in your neck. “Can I fuck you?” he asked, pressing kisses up your skin.

“Please” you begged, hands letting go of his cock.

He stood up straighter and stepped even closer to you. With his hands on your waist, he pulled you closer to him. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you lifted your legs, panties constricting you slightly.

Grabbing his cock, he ran the head through your folds before he pushed inside you. Tom savoured the feeling, the soft velvet of your walls swallowing him. He wanted to go slowly, to drag it out, but he was desperate. Desperate for you.

He reeled his hips back, before he slammed back inside you. God, you squeezed him just right. You felt like heave. He was not gonna last.

He picked up his pace. A slick sound muffled by the slapping of his skin against yours, melded with your combined grunts and moans.

He was an awful man. An awful man for loving you. An awful man for being unfaithful to his wife. An awful man for not feeling guilty. Being with you didn’t feel like cheating. Nothing had felt as simple as this. Loving you was the easiest thing in the world. And nothing or no one could make him feel ashamed for loving you.

You mewled under him at a particular hard thrust. He couldn’t control himself – he was so close to ecstasy.

“I’m sorry” he panted, “I’m gonna come”.

“It’s okay” your breath was heavy, “Come for me, Tom, please”.

The coil in his stomach snapped, and he fell off the edge. He didn’t have the sense to pull out, emptying himself inside you with a heavy groan. He pulled you even closer, hugging you to his body – wanting to feel close to you.

“I love you” he said softly, “I love you so much”.

He was so fucked. But in this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except you.

previous: the wedding | next: the end

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat, @lnmp89, @petrspideyparker, @hollandweather, @userholland, @imawhoreforu, @onepieceya, @sparklingsin, @annathesillyfriend, @mayal0pez, @transparentpsychicempathkid, @fic-rewind, @peterparkerfilms, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @mannien, @moonlightdotmp3, @padlockedhearts, @moniffazictress11, @all4koo, @angelayse, @svechnibrock, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx, @xxtomspideyxx, @i83andrew, @clockblobber, @fangirlinggalore, @luciwritesstuff, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @lol-just-kidding002, @allywthsr, @captainsbestgal, @readheadwriter, @parkersdahlia, @cosmicryuz, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg, @obsessedprincess, @alltoowelltom, @hey-im-bored504, @storybookholland, @sadisticsongbird, @prettyjendeukie,

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #prince!tom holland #uni au #college au #royal au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction

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carbone14 · 10 months

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Susan Peters (1921-1952) - Santa Monica - Californie - Etats-Unis - 1942

#et pendant ce temps-là #actrice #actress #actrice américaine #american actress #susan peters #santa monica #californie #california #états-unis #united states #USA #1942

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enbysiriusblack · 2 months

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thinking about that au where remus and james become best friends in secondary school, and so do sirius and lily in a different school, but then all meet at uni.

like on the boarding/private school side- lily dating regulus for years until he breaks up with her in like yr 11 because his parents found out about it and told him to. then when lily and sirius finish school, they both run away/go no contact with their families and don't tell them where they're going for uni

on the public school side- james and remus being the unlikely friends- football and rugby captain and the nerd who's always having days off school cause he's ill. then just before they finish sixth form, mia and monty die and james lives with the lupin's for a few months before they go off to uni

#(btw i'm also imagining both their schools having a sixth form)#if i actually write this. i might have peter meet them at uni.#marauders era #marauders #marauder fic idea #sirius black #lily evans #james potter #remus lupin

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belleandsaintsebastian · 17 days

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a very quick trip to south aus <3

#posting these here instead of instagram bc. i despise instagram … and ilu guys so :) inflicting images on u sorryyy xx #and yes that IS a photo of me and my sister making a heart shape w our shadow hands !!!! wearing the biggest coat in the #world bc it was below 25 degrees hooray!!!#anyways can safely say that i failed 2 do my uni work...but i ate a lot + got 2 sing in the car to maisie peters songs w my sister + saw #a lot of beautiful things <3 #okay show and tell presentation over thank u for listening <3

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amorchai · 4 months

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─ 𝐔𝐍𝐈 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

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i have finally finished semester one of my first year uni life! while i love my learning, i'm so happy it's over and it means i get a break and can come back here for a temporary stay <33

this celebration will run from 19 december to 26 december! so send as many you like, no need to hold back and have fun just send the emoji the choice matches to <33

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐅𝐖 !!

📁 ₊˚⊹ | blurbs! use my prompt's via my boyfriend post or any other prompt you'd like and a character ( see my character list first ) and i'll write a blurb based on this!

💌 °·˚ | love letters! [ moots only ] send me this and i'll write a letter about how much ily <33

🍎 ₊˚⊹ | ships! send me this with a description of yourself - include preference of fandom and gender preference as well as your personality and i'll match you up with any of my fandoms.

tagging some moots i love ; @venuslore @strvwcherie @thyme-in-a-bubble @spiderfunkz @rafesmuse @midniteluv @mystcldydrms @ghostlyfleur @leydileyla @holden-caulfield @fxllfaiiry

#— ꒰꒰ ₊˚⊹ uni break celebration ꒱꒱#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #jake peralta x reader #rachel green x reader #finnick odair x reader #tasm peter x reader #chandler bing x reader #tangerine x reader

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whumpingwho · 10 months

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Enlightenment - Season 20

#doctor who #doctor who whump #classic who #classic who whump #fifth doctor #peter davison #fifth doctor whump #whump #exhaustion #oxygen deprivation #season 20 #enlightenment #sorry for the lack of posts recently uni is kicking my ass #also apologies abt the crunchy quality of these gifs #wheres this season 20 bluray boxset janet's been promising us???

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webslingingslasher · 7 months

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What if trouble was having like a crisis at a party or something, maybe like a panic attack and she either hides in a bathroom or runs to someone like Ethan or one of her friends and Peter finds her and is like ??? You didn't feel like you could come to me? And this is during the situationship so she feels like it's nothing more than sex or he's made it clear that's all he wants yk <3

you've been giving peter the cold shoulder all night.

you swore things were fine, but once you had a couple drinks in you, the annoyance of last week's argument hung over your head. peter knows it too. he's tried to be extra nice tonight, but you made sure to stay clear of him until you needed a refill.

'you wanna come hang with me and ethan for a sec?'

'nope, thanks for the drink. talk to you when i need a new one.'

the night took a drastic turn when you slipped away for the bathroom, finding yourself bouncing between bodies and flashing lights, vape clouds and screams, you break free and heave for air.

you tried to find solace in the bathroom, but you never noticed how small it felt. focusing on deep breaths until someone pounds on the door, 'hurry up! i need to pee!' it's a whined out by a person significantly more drunk than you.

there was no comfort or quiet where you went, your only option was backing up into a corner and holding a hand over your chest, doing your best to keep your heart from beating out.

you weren't sure how long had passed, but you felt like you had lead feet. everything was too much and you were shutting down, even if you wanted to move and make a break for peter's room, or the basement, you were stuck.

ethan finds you in a dark corner in the back of the house, he's unsure what you're doing at first, approaching like normal, his hand rubs your shoulder.

'doin alright, trouble?' when you gasp for air he tries to find your face, 'hey, you okay?'

you shake your head, 'i think i'm having a panic attack but i... i don't know why.' you lean into ethan’s touch as you slowly sink to the floor.

'shit, i... hey, want me to go get parker?' he's already moving, you pull at his hand. 'no. no, get ally or, or prince.' you tuck your face in your knees, doing your best to breathe deeply, while ethan looks for a friend.

skating between bodies, he finds ally. she's with paul, who's with parker. doesn't matter, you're about to explode and you need her.

'ally, you gotta- ally we need to go. right now.' the urgency has her stepping forward, 'why? where are we going?' ethan breathes out your name, 'she's freaking out, i dunno. she said to get you.'

peter steps up, 'woah, what's going on?'

ethan has no time for it, he tugs on ally's arm, 'we gotta go.' ally sends peter a soft shrug before she's doing her best to keep up with ethan.

peter get's an achy feeling before following both of them, ally's already on her knees in front of you patting your hair. ethan's chewing on his nails when he notices peter, 'panic attack.'

it's all he needs to hear, peter crouches to your level. 'hey, trouble. want me to get you somewhere quieter?' your hand reaches for his on the floor, patting around until he holds it out for you. 'is that a yes?'

your breath is racing, your heart pounding, the noise is piercing and you can't move. you refuse to cry at a party in front of everyone, it’s why you're keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

you hate that he's here, that he's watching it go down, but you're so very thankful he's able to carry you to safety.

'i'm gonna pick you up, okay? i'm going to take you up these back stairs and into my room, is that okay?' you hold ally's wrist in your other hand. 'ally can come, she can stay the whole night in there with you, if you want.'

the tiniest of nods sent peter to move quicker than he ever has. he tapped your knees so you could stretch them down, an arm wrapped under your thighs and one behind your back, he secured you into his hold as he lifted you.

your hands clenched his shirt, it was less about it being peter and more to do with grounding yourself. tucking your head into his chest when he took the stairs two at a time.

'i'm rounding the corner, trouble. ally, wanna get the door for me?'

when his bedroom door shuts behind you it's dark, the music muffles. your heart rate lowers, it's like you can breathe better, no longer fighting to keep air.

peter gently sets you on his bed before crossing over to his windows, ripping the curtains open to let the moonlight fill his room. it's bright enough you can see everything.

ally holds you to her chest, 'oh my goodness, did you see something, or hear something?'

peter shakes his head, 'she was overstimulated.' your eyebrows furrow in ally's shirt, not even you had made that connection, but he did.

'ally,' peter didn't want to sound like a prick, but, 'maybe...' he made a pushing motion with his hand. 'maybe give her some space, just for a second.' she steps away, you feel so relieved from every ounce of pressure you had downstairs, you flop backwards onto peter's bed and sigh.

seconds pass, you feel embarrassed after breaking down in front of peter, especially when he made it clear he was in no rush to be your boyfriend, if ever.

you raise your head up to look at him, 'overstimulated, huh?' peter shrugs, 'i've been there too a few times.'

ally sat on the bed next to you, 'want me to play with your hair?' when peter said it, you felt it. you wanted to be alone in a dark room, maybe not totally alone, but you wanted someone who would just sit there until you needed them.

'um,' you stop her hand gently, 'would you mind if i said i kinda want to hang out with peter instead?' ally quickly stands, 'oh no, not at all! i totally get it, sometimes no one can comfort me like matty. text me if you need me, okay?'

you nod and wait until the door clicks, you pat the bed, waiting until peter sits before you talk.

'sorry. this is probably weird for you. i just know you don't care enough to talk to me or touch me so, you know, just chill here unless i quit breathing or something.'

you can hear nothing but muffled bass and shouts downstairs, it's a comfortable silence.

'hey, trouble, can i talk to you about something?' you hum in response, you can almost hear him thinking.

'i know you put a lot of emphasis on the boyfriend thing, and i know you hate it when i avoid it. but, i'm just not there yet. and i hate that dumb 'it's not you, it's me' stuff, but it is.'

you stay silent.

'and... i know i say dumb stuff a lot, but you are so much more than just a hookup to me. so when you hit me with the you don't care, it really, really hurts my feelings. because, i care about you a lot. i mean, i'd... i'd do anything for you. and i know that doesn't seem like a lot, but for me, that means everything.'

you know he's trying, but that conversation from weeks ago still holds a sour taste on your tongue. you mumble the words with grit, 'yeah, do anything except dumb boyfriend shit.'

'stop.'

'you said it, captain. not me.'

you can feel the frustration brewing in his chest.

'you push and push and when i finally open up you throw back something i said during a fight and under pressure. would it be fair that everytime you compliment me, i follow it up with a 'oh, but do you really? because the other week you called me a fucking coward.'

silence. you don't like when he's right.

'i know you didn't get the answer you wanted, and i'm sorry, but you can't bully me into a relationship. it just doesn't work like that.'

you know it doesn't, but it makes you feel a little better. sometimes dogpiling on peter makes you feel level footed, even if it's only for a second before he's making you feel guilty.

'i just want more, peter. and i don't mean that in a 'keep pressuring you into being my boyfriend' way. i don't know how to explain it.'

peter nibbles at his bottom lip, 'can you try?'

'i just want you to talk to me, and tell me things about yourself, or your childhood. i want you to tell me about the things that made you laugh that day, or show me your interests, or hobbies or really anything that's past surface value.'

you follow up with, 'i think i just want to know i have your commitment.'

you're glad you can't see his face, he's too quiet, you think this is the part where he officially breaks it off.

'you did a good job at explaining it.' his dismissal is enough to send you screaming and running, but he adds more before you could move.

'you have my commitment, trouble. i don't want anyone else but you, and if we need to have the conversation now, i'm off limits. i have been for a while, i'm sorry if i haven't made that clear.'

tilting your chin you get a glance of him, 'off limits?'

peter crosses out his body, 'trouble only zone. i'm talking about no flirting, deleting dm requests, harsh rejection and absolutely no touching.'

'trouble only?'

peter's shoulders drop in relief when the previously unrecognized tension lifts from the room.

he nods, 'only trouble can hear about my day, and childhood, and my hobbies. and touch, trouble can touch as much as she wants, whenever she wants.'

peter has one more thing to add.

'trouble, if i'm going to be anyone's boyfriend, i'm gonna be yours.'

he knows how to keep you latched. it works like a charm. but you can't let him know that.

'hm, if i'm gonna be anyone's girlfriend, i might be yours.'

'then i might be the luckiest guy in the entire world.'

you hum, his admittance made you warm. kicking your shoes off you wriggle higher unto his bed, 'sorry, no more party for me tonight. i'll get a ride home later.'

peter's busy moving closer to you in the sheets, 'you can stay here tonight.' his bed is ultra soft, you don't know how he's able to leave it in the morning. 'tempting, but i'm not in the mood to bang tonight.'

'good, neither am i.' you snort, 'really?' peter nods in your peripheral, 'it takes two to tango, trouble.'

it's calm, then he asks softly, like he's scared of you rejecting him, 'do you wanna cuddle?' your head turns, he's just as breathtaking in the moonlight.

you're already scooting back into him, 'really? don't you have a party to attend?' peter wraps his arms around you, tugging you close and tight, he wouldn't let you slip away if he could help it.

'nah, i'd rather tell you all about my aunt may.'

#uni extras #frat!peter fics

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